Talk To Me
by makesometime
Summary: When a routine mission goes south, there's no such thing as a routine check-in.


A/N: Companion piece to/prequel for **Cooking Up A Storm**, because **mercscilla **asked me so nicely and as far as I'm concerned what Mercy wants, Mercy gets.

I switch POV a couple of times in the middle of this, if it's not clear let me know and I'll make a bigger distinction. I think it flows quite nicely though...

(Gun Show chapter three is on its way, I promise!)

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><p>Taylor heard his comm unit chirp, noting the alert as the one he'd specifically assigned to Wash. <em>Hearing<em> it was all well and good – now he just had to find the little bastard.

After patting around on the couch for a few moments he located it under a piece of plex and answered quickly. "Taylor."

"Lieutenant Washington checking in, sir."

He smiled, settling back against the cushions. "How you holding up Wash?"

There was a very telling pause. "Well enough, sir."

He opened the line completely to her and laid the unit on his chest so his hands would be free to hold datapads as they chatted. "You on your perimeter walk?"

"Affirmative sir."

"Then stop being so damn formal."

She laughed, audibly relaxing. "Had the day from hell out here."

"They told you how much longer they expect to be?"

"Two days." She replied quietly. "I want to kill them all."

"Not sure that'd go down too well with Malcolm..."

"Malcolm isn't stuck OTG with a bunch of lying assholes." Wash ground out, keeping her voice quiet despite the fact that the scientists would know very well by now exactly what she thought of them.

Taylor smirked at her words, putting down the datapad and picking up a couple of mission request forms. "One of the men with you wants to accompany Reynolds and his team on the mission to Outpost Five next month."

He heard Wash's surprised outrage. "If you don't deny that_ immediately_..."

"You'll do... what exactly?" He goaded.

He could almost hear her sly grin. "Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something, _sir_." She practically purred his title and it was enough to make him throw the plex on the reject pile immediately.

"Fine, you win."

More laughter. "Don't I always?"

"More than you should."

"What can I say? I've got a hell of a bargaining chip." Her breathing deepened as she scaled a small incline. "Where are you?"

"In my quarters, turned in about a half hour back."

"Good. Thought you might be camping out in central command once I updated you."

"Tried to." He admitted, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "Doc Shannon kicked me out."

"Of your own office?" Wash snorted at the thought. "Way to go Elisabeth."

"You know how damn scary that woman can be when she sets her mind to a cause. Apparently tonight I was that cause." He sighed. "What's the betting I have Shannon to thank for that?"

"Oh, I'd say the odds are pretty high."

There was silence for a while as Wash continued her patrol, kicking her way through dead leaves and underbrush.

"How far out are you?"

"Doing a wide pass, sir. I figure they can look out for each other for a while and I needed some space to think."

He grinned, putting the plex in his hand down. "What are you wearing?" He said with a purposely affected drawl.

Wash laughed. "_Really_?"

He shrugged even though she couldn't see it. "Indulge me."

Her footsteps stopped as he imagined she was checking the coast was clear of curious scientists or wildlife, before she resumed her walk. "I'll tell you what I'm _not_ wearing. What I was going to surprise you with tonight if we'd got back on time."

He crossed his arms behind his head with a smile. "Go on..."

"Elisabeth got me quite the gift for my birthday. No idea where she managed to get hold of it." She paused. "I could spoil the surprise now, sir, or just give you a hint?"

Taylor grimaced, knowing either option would probably sent his mind racing a mile a minute in _very_ interesting directions. "Three words."

Wash hummed, thinking. "Okay, three words – red, lace, and... garter belt."

Taylor groaned, his worry from moments ago proved correct. "That's four words, Wash."

"I could choose another one then, if you're gonna be picky." She said happily. "How about red, lace and thong?"

His mental image took on another fascinating quality and he felt himself reacting almost immediately. "You sure know how to paint a picture, Wash." One hand came to rest over his fly without his permission, the heavy weight suggestive against his growing arousal.

Wash chuckled, carefully picking her way over tree roots as silence reigned from the other end of the line. "And you are _so_ easy to play."

She could picture him now, close to giving in but still resisting the urge, some screwed up sense of chivalry telling him not to take advantage. She could have pushed, forced him into submission; instead she simply waited. Continued her walk, not saying a word, nothing transmitting to him except the sound of her movement.

And then she heard it.

The metallic click of a zipper being slowly lowered.

She grinned to herself. _Gotcha._

"What's that noise, sir?" She asked innocently.

A pause. A hiss of breath. "You know damn well what is it."

She nearly stumbled when he groaned with pleasure, the sound shooting straight to her core. Looking around quickly to make sure the catch of her feet against the ground hadn't masked another, more sinister, sound she changed her path to one with less obstacles.

"You know what Shannon got me for my birthday?" She said. No reply, so she continued. "A classic pair of police handcuffs. Said they might come in useful when we team up again. Naturally, I had other ideas."

"Other... ideas?"

"Mmm, aren't you glad I requisitioned a slatted headboard?" She said. "Foresight is a beautiful thing, sir."

She heard his reaction to the images she was putting into his head and her smile threatened to split her face.

"What would you do?"

"Well, first I'd get you naked."

"Just like that?"

"Past experience tells me it wouldn't be particularly difficult."

"And then?"

"Then, I'd distract you enough to get the cuffs on."

"How?"

His sentences were getting shorter, words forced out to keep the conversation going. She decided to take pity on the poor man and build a proper story.

"I take my time. Get you flat on the bed, no arguments. Straddle your thighs so the material of my pants rubs against your skin when I grab your arm. Then I lean over you, barely touching, ignoring the way you thrust your hips at me. I kiss you as a distraction and slip the cold metal around one wrist, capturing your other before you can protest. You struggle but you're curious too, enough to only put on a show. Once you're bound I tease my way down your body, running my hands over every inch of your skin and following with my mouth, leaving behind marks that only I know are there."

Wash was quickly getting more caught up in her tale than she expected, so when she spotted a perch in the branches of a nearby tree she hoisted herself up before continuing.

"Once you're properly wound up, I climb off you-." He whimpered at the thought, she grinned triumphantly. "And very slowly start to remove my clothes. Pants first, so you can see the stockings underneath, the hint of red of the garter belt driving you insane. You know that I've been walking around like this for most of the evening and no one but you has any clue. My jacket follows, the strap of my tank slipping down to reveal a matching red bra. And finally, painfully slowly, I pull my shirt up revealing inch upon inch of red lace covering my torso, leading up to deep scarlet cupping my breasts exactly how your hands are itching to."

Her ears were filled with the rustle of clothing and the sound of Taylor's laboured breathing. She leant back against the tree, readying her weapon but allowing her eyes to close.

"I let you look for a moment, just a moment, and then I climb onto the bed, between your legs. You look so hot with your arms pulled tight and I can't resist leaning up to nip at your skin, my stomach brushing your length as I do so. I scoot back down, loving the way your arms pull against the restraints as you try and reach for me. Tucking my hair behind my ears I lower my mouth to you, pulling your head between my lips and sucking, just a bit. Your hips buck but I force them back down with my hands, holding you in place as I lower my mouth to take more..."

He was close. A few more strokes of his fist and he'd be there – so of course Wash chose that moment to fall silent.

He heard the sound of a sonic rifle charging.

"Wash?" He said, hand stilling as worry took over.

The sonic whined as it powered down and Wash's laugh echoed through his quarters. "Just a rodent." He let out a breath of relief. "Now where were we?"

"Close, Wash." He warned, hand pumping once more.

"Oh yes. And then I climb up, slide over you and ride you so hard you forget your own name."

Her unexpected bluntness brought him to his climax with a cry far louder than he would normally allow, spilling over his hand as he continued to squeeze and pull through his orgasm.

When Wash spoke next she was breathing heavily, obviously turned on by her easy domination of him. "_Pretty_ sure you just alerted every Carno in a five klick radius to my position." He tried to laugh but found he didn't quite have the breath for it. "You're welcome, sir."

"See you in a few days." He managed.

He heard her laugh as she hopped down from her perch. "I look forward to it sir." She said, voice low and suggestive.

The line disconnected and she was gone.


End file.
